


Under the Rain

by BambooBat



Series: 100 Theme One-shot Challenge [5]
Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Affection, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Ballet, Childhood Friends, Cigarettes, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Original Male Character - Freeform, POV Second Person, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Real Life, Requited Unrequited Love, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Sleepy Cuddles, Smoking, dance, emotional cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BambooBat/pseuds/BambooBat
Summary: When a raincheck fails, perhaps it is for the best.
Relationships: Briana Jungwirth/Louis Tomlinson, Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson/You
Series: 100 Theme One-shot Challenge [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565344
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Under the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This is in response to #30 on the challenge.
> 
> I finished this last year, just forgot to get around to posting it. Then COVID-19 happened and the world went sideways.
> 
> This was originally going to be a lot longer, but I lost motivation and this is a cute place to end it. 
> 
> I hope someone likes it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Reader (you), Louis, Eleanor, Briana, or Freddie. I do own the concept and Xhanti, though.

The rain falling down outside reflects your mood. You feel tired, exhausted really, like you are about to disappear down a drain. This is not unusual weather for London, but you feel like it is a personal affront. It looks like you have just one more reason to reschedule with your friend.

The main reason coughs behind you, wet and barking. You do not have to look to know the weird, unhappy face the little boy is making as he swallows any of the gunk he just coughed up. At almost three, he has not learned to spit it out into a tissue. He makes a miserable little noise. It breaks your heart.

With a heavy sigh, you pull out your phone to send your childhood best mate a text.

< Hey. Xhanti’s sick, the weather sucks, so if you want to we can reschedule.

The three of you are supposed to meet up for lunch which is not for another couple of hours. You hope he is not too upset about it, although you know he will understand.

Honestly, you know your son is going to be devastated. He took an immediate shine to your friend from the beginning. It is bittersweet how much he adores his new friend. If only you could put out the torch you have carried since primary school, life would be much easier.

The chime of your phone makes you jump, but Xhanti does not stop staring intently at the movie you put on. _The Lion King_ is his favorite movie, so of course it has been playing in a loop almost nonstop for the past couple of days.

> What? Poor kiddo.  
> I’m already on the way love

Well, shit. He is hardly ever _early_. Maybe something is wrong?

If he needs comfort, you are more than happy to provide it. The two of you have filled that roll for each other since you were kids. Whatever it was, he could come to you, and vice versa. It is both a blessing and a curse. After all, you were there to help boost his courage to ask girls out, and the shoulder to lean on if he broke their hearts – or they broke his, all while silently being in love with him yourself.

Then he went on X Factor and, well, the rest is history.

You know he will soon be leaving on his solo tour and you cannot be happier for him. _Really_. Maybe by the time he gets back to the UK, you will be able to attend one of his concerts. It will be a first.

If he is on his way, you best straighten up and get the kettle on for tea. That will be a good start; hopefully he will not be too stubborn about opening up on what is bothering him if he has a cup of tea in his hands. Your turquoise kettle goes on the stove to boil, while you pull out the wire basket that holds your tea selection. He takes his a very specific way that you have mastered over the years. Today, you think you will have some of your chai blend; it tastes like cinnamon candies and packs about as much caffeine as an energy drink. You are in desperate need of some since you have been up regularly with Xhanti.

Everything ready for tea, you move around picking up and wiping surfaces down to try and minimize any exposure to the germs making your son sick. The last thing you want is for your friend to get sick, too.

Moving over to the couch, you crouch down and gently smooth a hand over the little, too warm forehead. Shockingly light blue eyes blink slowly up at you as Xhanti focuses on your face instead of the singing lions.

“Hey, baby.” You smile softly. “Feeling any better?”

“Nuh uh.” His little voice is hoarse and you can hear the slight gargle of mucus stuck in his throat.

Pouting, you rub gently on his chest. “Well, that’s no good. Mummy doesn’t want you to be sick.”

He sniffles, which leads to a short coughing fit. At the end, a high-pitched whine escapes him. The flutters of panic over being helpless to fix this begin to build, but you ignore it.

“Guess who is coming over.” Maybe this will at least cheer him up.

The frown of confusion pinches his eyebrows together. “Who come?”

Leaning in like it’s a secret, you wait a second to build anticipation. “Louis!”

The change is immediate. Xhanti’s eyes light up, happiness so great it sparkles and seems to eradicate the malaise. The little boy begins to wiggle around like he wants to get up. You expected excitement, but this is a little much. Still, you have to hide your smile at his enthusiasm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You probably should not sound so amused.

He looks at you like you are crazy, and you are left to wonder at how he manages to look so much like Louis when he makes that face. It causes a twinge in your heart, because deep down – way deeper than anyone will ever see, farther than you will look yourself – you wish Xhanti was Louis’s son.

“ _Sokker_ , me!” His tone sounds like this should be obvious.

“No, baby,” you say, chuckling softly despite yourself. “You and Louis can’t play football today. It’s raining, and you are sick.”

It makes you feel like champagne is bubbling through your veins that just the promise of seeing the guy is enough to “cure” the almost 3-year-old.

Xhanti is scowling at you. “No sick. Me no sick!”

The runny nose that you have to quickly wipe away before it can drip into his mouth clearly tells you otherwise.

“It’s still raining and you two aren’t allowed to play football in the house.” Not since Louis accidentally kicked the ball through a window.

He had handled dealing with the landlady as well as footing the bill for the repair, all while sheepishly trying to get you to stop being mad. You never can hold a grudge against him, but you still have to pretend sometimes so he does not take advantage of you. (Not that he will, but it is better to keep him on his toes.)

Disappointed, Xhanti sinks back into his pillows with his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout.

“Maybe next time it will be nice enough outside.” You kiss his hair. “Sorry, baby.”

After digging his stuffed giraffe from the nest of blankets, you hand it to him. With a little sigh, he hugs it tight and snuggles up to it.

Now, you are not sure what to do. There is no telling how far away he is. You _really_ need a shower, but the closest you have gotten is sitting in the tub with Xhanti so the steam could loosen some of his congestion. Aside from that, your hair has been up in a messy bun, and your clothes are comfy leggings and a jumper over a thin t-shirt.

Hopefully Louis doesn’t run for the hills at your slovenly appearance.

The knock at the door startles you. Xhanti glances over expectantly, but does not move to get off the couch. As you suspected, that little burst of energy was just that: a short burst. If you are right, Xhanti will wait until he sees his favorite person before he bothers to move.

When you open the door, you manage to catch Louis off-guard enough to catch the sad, tired look on his face. But it immediately disappears as he looks up at you and smiles.

As corny as it is, you feel like he has just chased the storm clouds away with that.

“Hullo, [Nickname], love,” he says.

Before you can answer, there is a shriek of delight from the couch. “Lou!”

If possible, the wattage of his smile goes up. He peers over you to the couch. “Hey, little man. How’re you feeling? Mummy taking good care of you?”

You roll your eyes at the cheeky grin he aims at you; you already know he is joking. Maybe you are not the world’s greatest, but you still try to be a damn good mother. Especially now that Xhanti’s father is no longer in his life.

Xhanti nods solemnly. “No football me,” he says sadly, looking like someone kicked a line of puppies in front of him.

“Aww,” Louis whines, pouting at you.

It is hardly fair that the two of them gang up on you like this. There is no possible way for you to look just as adorable back at them.

“He’s too sick,” you point out, repeating the argument that you just had with the little boy. “And you two aren’t allowed to play football in the house.”

Louis has the grace to look properly abashed at the reminder. With a nervous chuckle, he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m real sorry ‘bout that, [Nickname].”

You smile to reassure him you are not actually angry. “I know. I’ve just had this exact argument with him already.”

That makes the singer laugh. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to trap you in a time loop.”

You only shrug, but do not have time to say anything else before the kettle starts to whistle. For a second, Louis looks surprised, but that fades into a fond little grin that he sends you. It feels like your heart is trying to turn into a hummingbird.

_Stop it, [Name]. He has Eleanor._

You leave the two boys together for a moment while you go pour the water into a teapot so you can begin steeping the tea. When you return, you hand the cup filled with his tea over to him. At some point, he has taken a seat on the floor next to your son, who is idly playing with Louis’s hair. The image makes your chest hurt. 

The two of you sit quietly, the movie playing in the background. He seems to noticeably relax once he has taken a few sips of his tea. Xhanti moves around until he can lean against Louis, propped up against his side. After a moment, he grabs the giraffe and then snuggles up again.

You watch as Louis’s expression softens while he watches the little boy make himself comfy. There is a sorrow there, too, that you aren’t sure has anything to do with Xhanti. Still, you have to quickly look away before he can look up at you and see all the emotions you are feeling. When you glance back, Louis has wrapped an arm around the little boy’s shoulders and is gently rubbing on one.

It hurts how much you wish this was the usual. That the three of you were a family.

Out of sheer stubbornness, you manage to bury that deep. You will deal with it later, when your best mate is not here.

“Everything okay, Tommo?”

Louis cannot help the little grin at the nickname. Only a select few get to use it and he feels like he has not seen any of them recently. That sobers him up as much as thinking about all that is going wrong lately.

To be honest, it feels a bit like his life is falling apart.

“Erm…” He clears his throat, unsure where the surge of emotions is coming from. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

You know him too well for him to lie to you. His response gets a weary sigh from you, because you do not have the energy to pull it out of him.

“Right…” Your tone is extremely skeptical.

He avoids your gaze while you get comfy on the opposite end of the couch, curling up so your legs are folded beneath you. Louis is not sure why you look so small.

“Freddie was sick before I left,” he mutters after a while, voice quiet because he has seen the way Xhanti is slowly blinking, head starting to drop until it rests against Louis’s hip. Seeing this sick little guy reminds him of his own.

It pisses him off that Briana refused to let him see his son before he left. He would have been happy to just see him at her place instead of taking him for his time. Maybe they could have sat the way he is sitting with Xhanti. But, no.

You watch the emotions crossing his face: anger, regret, disappointment, sorrow, jealousy. That last doesn’t make any sense at first. Then it hits you.

“Didn’t let you see him did she?” Your voice is soft.

He visibly flinches, wondering how you could possibly guess that. Sometimes it is a blessing and a curse that you are so intuitive.

“Ah, no,” he says with a humorless little laugh. “She didn’t even tell me he was feeling better until after I was back here.”

“What a cow,” you mutter, angry on his behalf.

If Xhanti’s sperm donor was not a violent piece of rubbish, you would love for him to be even half as involved as Louis is with his son. Granted, you would not have had to flee home to the UK from South Africa if his father was like Louis. _Or just_ actually _him._ You shake the thought away.

You love Xhanti, he is your world and you would not change a thing about him.

Except his being sick, of course.

Louis smiles a little when you call her that. Personally, he wants to call her something a lot more flavorful, but he at least tries to be conscientious of his cursing around kids. Still, it is nice that you are on his side. Eleanor seems to have lost patience for any venting about his ‘baby mama’. Actually, she does not tolerate even half as much as she used to. Sometimes he feels like only the fear of another big change, of losing one more person, is what keeps him with her.

When you see that Xhanti has dozed off, you smile softly. He needs all the rest he can get, but until Louis got here, he has been fighting it like a matador in the ring. It probably says something about how much he adores Louis, but all you can feel is relief. At least when he is asleep, he heals faster.

Sliding off the couch, you stretch to pop your back. While doing so, you completely miss the way Louis’s eyes are drawn to the curves as they are practically silhouetted. Once you are done, you give your shirt a gentle tug to get it to fall back in place. Then you are taking the last half-step to bend over so you can scoop up the sleeping toddler.

Louis stops you. “I got it.”

You look up at him in surprise. He just gives you a tender smile, one you are sure you have never received. It makes your heart flutter. Straightening back up, you step aside.

“Alright.” After a second, you wonder, “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”

Louis smirks a little. “That’s fine. I promise not to peek.”

That makes you roll your eyes, even as your thoughts take a dip south. Fortunately, you can hide the blush by turning away to head for your bathroom.

“Peek if you want, I don’t care,” is out of you as you disappear down the hallway.

You miss the wide eyes and choking noise as Louis struggles to remember how to breathe. Still, he looks after you in shock. When did you start making jokes like that? And why is it affecting him so much? It is weird, right? You are his best mate, and that is all it has ever been. That is not to say it has never crossed his mind, but he does not think you have ever shown an iota of interest in him.

Shaking his head, Louis shifts a little sideways just enough to be able to scoop Xhanti up into his arms. He does so when it becomes obvious that Xhanti will not wake up for these things, easily lifting the sleeping little boy. He is glad that both of you are looking better and better. You have not been exactly forthcoming about whatever had you fleeing back to England the way you have, and he felt like he should not press.

Whatever it is, you are starting to look happier and less on edge. Xhanti has lost the dark circles under his eyes and it looks a little like he gained some weight. Still, Louis wonders if you will ever open up. It must be hard, because of some other new quirks you seem to have developed that Xhanti shares some of, such as jumping at sudden loud noises, or flinching if someone raises their hand quickly. Xhanti no longer moves around like he is trying to be unseen.

He carries Xhanti down the hall to the second bedroom. It is note quite a landmine field of toys, but it is pretty close. Especially with the light off, Louis has to be careful where he steps. The last thing he wants to do is trip.

After gently laying Xhanti in his little toddler-size bed, he makes sure to tug the blankets up, amused to see the top one is a throw with the Rovers logo on it. When he turns to leave, he is surprised by the One Direction poster on the wall. Even with just the light from the hallway, he can see there are a lot of smudges from fingers and hands on the part where he is standing. Clearly the little guy spends time patting on Louis’s picture.

Or some reason, that makes the singer’s eyes burn a little.

A part of him wonders if Freddie misses him as much as your son seems to. For a moment, he regrets that you are not Freddie’s mum. He knows you would be the easiest person to co-parent with; not that he would let you go – Wait, what? Where did that even come from?

He slips from the room and pulls the door shut behind him with a little sigh. From here, he can still hear the shower going. Shaking his head, he forces his feet to go toward the main room again. The plan is to just stretch out on the couch to wait for you to be done.

Maybe the two of you can get takeaway and watch a movie.

Instead, his feet lead him to the door of the bathroom. It is slightly cracked, probably out of habit so you can hear if a certain little boy calls for you. He shifts just a little until he can see your silhouette through the shower door. Details are obscured, but he can still make out the color of your skin, and there is a lot of it.

Heat flashes through him. Mortified, he turns and hurries back to sit on the couch. His heart is pounding, he hopes it will calm down by the time you come out. What is going on with him? He is being ridiculously sentimental. And why are his weird fantasies focused around you?

By the time you get out, feeling clean and relaxed, Louis has started to absently scroll through delivery apps on his phone, trying to find something he wants to eat. He knows that your go-to comfort food is Chinese, so maybe if he just gets a load of that then you will join him in a feast.

Despite having just changed out of comfy clothes, you end up just putting on pajamas – flannel, plaid pants and a long, stretchy camisole in red. Usually, you would pull a jumper over it, but with Xhanti being sick, you have been keeping the flat unusually warm.

It is not very late and you don’t have practice tomorrow, so there is no reason for you to go to sleep. _Wake up._

“Love, you hungry?” Louis asks when he hears you in the hall. He glances up when you walk in and nearly chokes.

You have always been a pretty girl, Lord knows he was sometimes painfully aware of it when you two were younger. However, years of ballet has toned you up and given you an almost feline grace. With the pants low on your hips and the thin top still clinging a little to damp places, you are just extremely appealing. Your whole being just screams comfort, and he suddenly wants nothing more than to cling a little to you until he feels better.

He forces his gaze away from your body – No, don’t turn away, now he can see the material hugging your ass – to his phone. Hopefully you will not notice anything weird.

“Starving,” you say with a grin. “Erm, can we get Chinese?” Your smile is shy, cheeks turning pink.

This is hardly fair. You are not supposed to be so cute. It is damn distracting.

“I s’pose,” he answers with a pretend huff, as if he has not already pulled up your favorite of the local places. As if he is not half-planning to order enough for five people.

“Yay! You’re the best!” You beam at him.

You already know Louis will order what you like. For the most part, when it comes to food, you are a creature of habit. It just so happens this local place has the best Chinese you have ever had. You missed it when living in Johannesburg.

You miss the way your smile makes Louis’s ears turn red.

Half-way to the sofa, you pause. “Should we watch a movie?”

Maybe he will let you cuddle a little if you do. He tends towards being snuggly anyway, but if he is full of yummy food and relaxing next to you, hopefully he will be more than happy to snuggle.

The grin he sends your way makes your heart stutter. “You’re a genius, babe. That was my next question.”

You smile. “Great minds, and all that.”

While he orders, you look at your movie collection with a thoughtful frown. What should the two of you watch? Nothing sad or romantic. You are in the mood for an action movie.

Once Louis hangs up, he slides his phone into his pocket. “Should be about 45 minutes.”

Your stomach growls in protest, but you ignore it. “Sounds good. Did you want to watch in here or my room?”

The living room is less intimate and better for eating. However, the TV in your room is of slightly better quality since Xhanti is not allowed in there without your supervision. Besides, you have your PS3 hooked up there, so you can even watch Blu-ray. To be honest, you are not sure which place you hope he chooses.

Louis is sure this is not supposed to be a tough question. Clearly you would not offer your room as an option if you did not want to go there. With a little hum, he shrugs.

“Your room is fine,” he says. “Less likely to wake Xhanti up anyway.”

That is a good point. The layout of the flat has the wall with the TV in the living room shared with the one across the room from Xhanti’s bed. Meanwhile, you room is at the back and is separated by the bathroom and a storage closet.

“Alright.” You shrug. “Any movie you want to watch?”

You kind of hope not. There is one you really want to show him.

Louis notices that you seem reluctant to ask and hides a smile. “You pick, love.”

It really does not matter to him either way. The two of you have similar tastes in just about everything, and since you have more time to keep up on movies, he is used to you introducing him to new ones. Plus your obvious excitement is adorable.

With a cheer, you turn and head for the bedroom again. At least you cleaned it recently. Otherwise, you might have been embarrassed.

By the time Louis joins you, you are bent over trying to find the movie you are looking for. He has to avoid staring at your ass again, moving over to crawl onto your bed. For a moment, he sprawls out, taking advantage of the open space. The covers smell like you, and like Xhanti. He will not be surprised if your pillows smell like your shampoo.

It is so comfortingly familiar, he almost wants to just fall asleep right here.

“Lou?” You are a little hesitant since it looks like he already fell asleep.

But he rolls over onto his side so he can watch you. Face feeling warm at the way he is posing, you glance at the movie in your hand. Maybe suggesting your room was a bad idea. Apparently you completely forgot about your bed.

“Have you seen this yet?” You are aware the hopefulness is ridiculous. It’s just a damn movie.

He looks thoughtful, but shakes his head. “Nope. Is it, ah, any good?”

“It’s bloody amazing!” You are too excited to care about how dorky your enthusiasm is. “Seriously, it’s my favorite live-action superhero movie right now.”

Louis does not even bother trying to hide his amusement at watching you gush about the movie. At least it is more fond than mocking.

“Sounds like a great choice, [Nickname],” he chuckles.

You plan to wait for the food to arrive before you start it. Maybe you should go get drinks ready? Before you can ask if he wants more tea, your best mate is glancing up at you sheepishly.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

It takes you a minute. “Oh, no. C’mon.”

Now you do grab a jumper – it is thick, warm, and billows when you walk so you feel like you’re stalking the corridors of Hogwarts – to pull over the tank top. It is way too chilly to go out without one, especially with your wet hair. Louis follows you back to the front room and over to the sliding doors that lead to your tiny balcony. In the summer, you plan to have some potted plants, but for now it is depressingly barren with only an ashtray for decoration.

Louis has the pack of cigarettes out before you even shut the door behind you. He pulls out one, hesitates as he glances at you, and then offers the pack. You smile softly, remembering times in the past when you two bummed cigarettes off each other, but take one. You try not to smoke very often, but you do have a pack for stressful emergencies. Like panic attacks.

You wait for the lighter, and fill your lungs with menthol and nicotine. The tingly rush makes you smile even more, before you relax.

“Thanks,” you say, holding up the cigarette to indicate what you are being grateful for.

“No problem, love.”

The two of you smoke in companionable silence. You are both aware of how unhealthy the habit is, and you both have to resist the urge to lecture the other like a hypocrite. Still, with him by your side, you are content. A soft sigh escapes you.

Louis glances at you when you sigh, but relaxes a little when he sees the gentle smile on your lips. He feels happy, truly happy, for the first time in months.

That should probably tell him something, but he ignores it.

Kind of.

“El and I are having problems.”

The sudden confession startles you, but only because you did not expect it. You were sure that it would require food and nagging on your part to get him to open up like this. You eye the cigarette almost suspiciously, as if it has been laced with something. There is obviously no evidence of tampering, though.

You watch him closely. “Why?”

Last you knew, things were fine. Granted, that had seemed to be the case before and suddenly they were split up with Louis knocking up Briana. The old jealousy coils around your stomach like a puff adder, but you ignore it.

Louis rubs wearily at his face. “Just… Shit has never gotten back like it was, yeah?”

You hum encouragingly, taking a couple steps closer. If he needs it, you are more than happy to hold him, or at least give him a hug.

“It’s like…” He struggles for words, making a frustrated noise. “She’s been bitchin’ about all the time I spend in L.A.”

You do not really blame her. You would like nothing more than for Louis to be nearby – at least in England – all the time. But you understand, and accept, that it will not be like that. At least not until he is ready to settle down. Even then, you will not be surprised if he stays in the States in order to be close to Freddie.

Still, these are all things Eleanor should have anticipated before getting back together with Louis. Sometimes you really do not like her.

“That sucks, I’m sorry she’s being like that.” You are close enough now to reach out and slide your hand across his shoulders.

He turns sad, resigned eyes on you. “She gets why, though. I mean, aside from m’career, there’s Freddie to see.”

You are not sure what to do. On the one hand, you can understand where she is coming from. You would be jealous and a little bitter about sharing him if you were her. But, at the same time, she should not be taking it out on him. You slip your arms around him to give him a little squeeze. He turns to lean into you a little, soaking up the affection like a needy sponge.

“Maybe she can’t handle it like she thought,” you mutter. “She is not a parent, so she can’t understand.”

With his face hidden a little by your hair, you miss the little smile he has. No wonder you are so intuitive; _you_ are a parent, too.

“Thanks, [Nickname],” he says quietly, but he means it.

Reluctantly, you pull away and suck down some more of the cigarette. It is almost entertaining to watch it burn. “No problem, Tommo.”

Louis gives you a gentle squeeze before you can move out of reach, enjoying the way you fit against him. You are secretly enjoying it, too.

The two of you end up standing outside, smoking and chatting, until the food arrives. You cannot help the wide eyes when you see just how much food that was ordered. The slightly incredulous look you turn on Louis makes his ears feel hot. He knows comfort-eating is bad, but he also is aware that you are prone to it, too. Which is why you used to be almost adorably chubby until your mum put you in ballet school.

Shaking your head a little, you shoo him and all the food towards your room. You hope he knows to set stuff up, otherwise you will have to. Meanwhile, you detour to the kitchen for drinks. There are a couple miscellaneous beer bottles in your fridge, so you grab one you know Louis likes. For yourself, you just grab a soda.

At the last second, you refill the kettle so it will be ready to boil, if either of you are in the mood for tea. _Hm, or hot cocoa_. Both sound like good treats.

Louis has put the movie in and is setting up the food on your little desk. It is quickly covered in containers full of food. Your stomach growls, but you ignore it for a moment so you can enjoy the way Louis bends over, his pants hugging his ass. He still has the best butt, hands down.

Realizing you are starting, you jolt and wander all the way into the room.

“Good job, mate.” You have to use words he is expecting which really sucks.

For some reason, Louis feels a little like flinching when you call him _mate_ like that, but he does not. You _are_ his best friend, so he should not be flinching. It is annoying how he cannot seem to get his head on straight.

Pretending not to be affected, he just rolls his eyes. “I do try.”

You only smile.

With the food set up like a buffet, the two of you load up your plates and climb onto the bed. As the credits appear, you lean back a little in your pillows so you will not be as tempted to lean closer to him.

The two of you quietly eat as the movie starts. Even though this is not the first time you watched it, you are just as focused on it. Because of this, you miss the tiny looks Louis gives you, full of affection and love.

Once your belly starts to feel pleasantly full, you set aside your plate. A little bit of shifting to get comfy, and you are set to relax.

Louis eats a while longer, until he feels sated, heavy and full of delicious food. With the soft bed and your immediate presence, he wants nothing more than to curl up around you and doze off. He grabs our plate to stack on his, setting both aside out of the way so they cannot be knocked down. That done, he shifts around until he is reclined next to you. His arm slips around your shoulder only to pull you tight against his side. The noise you make is less protest, and more surprise.

Once your brain catches up after the sudden movement, you relax. A little wiggle and it is almost like sliding the last piece into a puzzle, the way you fit against him. Your head rests on the side of his chest, arm draped lazily across his waist. If he was single, you would probably drape a leg over him, too, but now you do not. A weary sigh escapes you as you relax, your thumb rubbing absently on his side.

Louis practically melts when you snuggle up to him. This is just so familiar and comforting, it is like a balm for his soul. A part of him wishes he never has to leave. Not for the first time, he wonders what might have happened between you two as if he hadn’t gone on X Factor or been a part of One Direction. Would you still be in Johannesburg? Would you have even gone in the first place? Maybe he would have followed you to South Africa.

The fantasy of supporting you as you reach for your dreams is so pleasant, Louis files it away to think about later.

Absently, he begins to rake his fingers along your scalp before just playing with the tips of your hair. You try to suppress the shiver, but are not very successful. Fortunately, he seems to think you are cold so he just gives you a squeeze before pulling away to grab for the comforter at the foot of the bed. He pulls it up over the two of you, practically tucking you in before he lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

The urge to confess is so strong you have to bite your lip to keep the words from spilling out. If you tell him your feelings, he will not be able to do this anymore. He will know your selfish motives.

Still…

“I love you, Tommo.” Your voice is soft, quiet, and barely intelligible.

He looks at you in surprise, but your face is hidden by how you are laying. Did you mean – how do you mean that? Surely you mean as just mates, but he cannot be sure. He also refuses to ask. 

Relaxing a little, he presses his lips to your hair because he wants to and he can.

“I love you, too, [Name].”

You have to close your eyes really tight. This is as good as you will ever get. It is as much as you deserve.

After that, the two of you are quiet as the movie wraps up. Once the last credit scene plays, you relax a little with a yawn.

“What did you think?” You twist a little to peer up at him.

He grins at you. “It’s a great movie, you are right. Thanks for showing it to me.”

You look a little smug, pleased to be bringing new fans to a great movie. A quick glance at the clock has you frowning thoughtfully. Two-hour long movies are fun.

“Hey, Lou?”

He hums softly to let you know he hears you, but otherwise does not react. He keeps his eyes closed. “Yeah, love?”

You worry at your lip for a second, before letting out a sigh. “D’you, er… Are you just going to spend the night?”

Louis blinks up at the ceiling. He probably should not. Hiding here to avoid dealing with all the bickering with Eleanor, and the passive-aggressive bullshit with Briana, sounds like the best idea though. He really is going to miss you and Xhanti when he goes on tour. It is too bad you cannot just come along with him.

Since he has not responded, you let out a little sigh and resist the urge to curl up. “It was a dumb question. Sorry, forget I said anything.”

That jolts him out of his thoughts. Giving you an apologetic squeeze, he says, “It isn’t dumb, [Nickname]. I’m just…not sure I should.”

“Oh…” Well, fuck. This just keeps getting worse. Why did you even _ask_?!

Louis frowns at the dejected tone, and the way you seem to withdraw without actually moving away. Clearly you took what he said in a bad way, but he cannot figure out how. Did you actually _want_ him to stay? The idea is very, very tempting. Maybe he just should. He is fairly certain Eleanor will not care; she does not seem to consider you to be very significant. That is a stupid mistake, considering just how important you are to him.

“It isn’t that I don’t want to, because I do.” More than he should, actually. “I’m just not real keen on starting another row with Eleanor.

That is a good point. At least he says he wants to stay the night. That makes it a little easier to accept.

“Okay, Lou.” You hesitate, before murmuring, “I hope we get to see you again before you leave.”

You probably should not have said that.

Louis glances at you, expression soft with a small smile on his lips. Without thinking, he leans in so he can press a gentle kiss to your hair. “Me, too, love.”

He probably should not have done that.

“Can we take a nap?”

Before he can answer – with an enthusiastic “Yes!” – there is a creaking noise. You both look over to see the bedroom door being hesitantly pushed open.

It is Xhanti, looking sleepy. With snot practically dripping into his mouth.

Ugh.

You don’t even hesitate, rolling over to hop off the bed and grabbing a tissue in the same fluid movement. Glazed, teary blue-green eyes peer up at you pitifully as you quickly wipe off his face. Once you are done, he sniffles.

“ _Dankie_ , Mummy,” he mumbles.

You smile, tossing the dirty tissue away. “You are very welcome, Xhanti. Are you ready to get up?” So much for that nap. You have to bite back a yawn.

He is shaking his head before you even finish asking. Without another word, he just holds his arms up to signal he wants to be picked up. You do so, and he buries his face in your neck, arms wrapped around it tight.

Louis watches the two of you with a strange mixture of emotions. On the one hand, he is jealous because you have your son with you at all times. He is also happy, because watching you be a mother fills him with joy. Yet, he is also more than a little longing. You and Xhanti are a family. No matter what Louis tries, he cannot seem to find that with Eleanor anymore. If her reaction to Freddie is any indication, she is not going to be a very loving stepmother, let alone mother. Honestly, he sometimes wonders if she even wants to have kids.

Suddenly, he sits up. “Y’wanna nap with us, little man?”

Xhanti does not hesitate, immediately nodding and letting go of your neck so he can reach out for Louis.

Amused, and trying not to erupt into bubbles and butterflies of happiness, you carry Xhanti to the bed and set him down gently. Before you can even let go, he is wiggling away to crawl up next to Louis. With his giraffe tucked close, he curls up against the man’s side with a heavy sigh.

You turn off the light, before coming back to crawl on the bed, too. It is not dark out, so with the sun filtering through the blinds, you watch as Louis wraps an arm around your little boy to rub gently on his back. You do not miss the little kiss Louis presses to Xhanti’s forehead, either.

If this gets any cuter, you might die.

Knowing how much of a furnace he can be, you do not tuck yourself against Xhanti. Now that you are lying down, exhaustion is quickly catching up with you. Sleepily, you reach out to rub your hand on Louis’s arm.

Your eyes are closed before you can see the affectionate smile on Louis’s face.  
  


* * *

  
Everything was going so well.

You should have known better.

Still, today starts out positive. You and Xhanti are healthy again – after coming down with the same cold – and finally have energy. Well, he always has energy, but this is the first day you have not wanted to spend curled up in bed. Not that you got to, but all your energy had gone into taking care of your son so you had no reserves for extra chores.

There is a lot to get done, too. Errands need run and you definitely need to get groceries. The plan is to get as much stuff done as possible, then maybe take Xhanti to go get a treat of some kind.

Of course, the best laid plans…

It’s after the first couple of errands, on the way to the market, when it happens.

You think you see _him_.

The man is not even facing you, but his general shape and hair matches close enough. Even when he turns so you can see his face and it clearly is not, you cannot seem to rationalize it.

Xhanti sees him, too, and immediately hides his face in your neck with a tiny whimper of fear.

All else forgotten, you turn and flee back home with the single-minded purpose of getting locked in somewhere safe. If he really has your location, then he knows where you are living, too. Anyone who gets in your way is rudely bumped aside. You don’t hear any of their protests, so focused on getting Xhanti to safety.

By the time you are stumbling through the door, pulling it shut behind you and almost catching the back of your heel in your haste, your muscles are on fire with your arms feeling weak like you might drop the 3-year-old at any moment. You engage all of the locks on the door before hurrying to the back of the flat to your room. Only then do you set Xhanti down on your bed. Before he can ask, you hurry to his room to grab Kamil the Giraffe for him.

With his hand in yours, you pull him into the closet with you, still acting on autopilot. Xhanti does not protest, docilely doing as he has before, curling up behind you in the corner.

Now your body begins to violently shake as you get lost in memories of having to do this very thing before.

Xhanti is quiet for longer than most toddlers can be, before reaching out to pat softly on your arm.

“Mummy?” he whispers.

When there is no response, he crawls closer until his face is almost pressed against yours.

“Mummy!” His little hand slaps lightly against your face.

Aside from flinching, you do not react.

Xhanti quietly sets Kamil down next to you so you will not be lonely. With a tiny hand, he pats at your pocket. Finding nothing, he slips from the closet and silently tiptoes from your room to where you dropped your purse in your haste to get to safety. He pulls your phone out and plops on the floor with it.

The way you made this sound more like a game keeps him from being scared as he turns on the screen. He remembers the number you said to push in case of an emergency, because it is how old he is. He taps at the number with a small finger and then holds the phone to his ear.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

Xhanti glances back towards the bedroom, but there are no sounds coming from where you are so he stays where he is.

“Hello?”

It takes him a moment to recognize the voice, but once he does, his face lights up.

“Lou!” he cheers.

There is a startled laugh as Louis recognizes who is on the phone. “Hey, Xhanti. Does your mum know you are on her phone?”

Some of the little boy’s excitement dies down. He gets up and, phone still to his head, he shuffles back to the bedroom and over to the closet.

“Mummy help.”

“ _What?_ ” There is alarm in the man’s voice.

Xhanti looks on as you rock slightly, eyes staring blankly ahead. “Lou help? Help!”

There is some static, but Xhanti has no idea what it means.

“Is she alright? Is your mum hurt?”

“No boo-boo. Scared.” Xhanti is getting upset now, too.

This is harder than you made it sound. He just wants you to be better, for Uncle Louis to hurry and fix it. It has been a while since you did this, at least while he is awake.

It is starting to make him feel afraid, as well. What if you do not come back this time?

“Where’s your mum, buddy?” Louis sounds like he does after chasing Xhanti around playing football.

“Closet. Her hidin’.”

Louis says something Xhanti does not quite catch, but it certainly sounds like one of the grown-up words you told him are bad for kids to say. You use them when angry or upset.

He hopes Louis is not mad at him.

“Hang tight, little man. I’m on my way,” Louis’s voice is calm and gentle.

Relief floods the little boy. He is supposed to call for help and he did. Louis can fix anything, in Xhanti’s eyes. He certainly makes you seem happier for days after he hangs out with the two of you.

“’Kay, Lou,” he agrees with a determined little nod.

Louis does not hang up, too concerned now as he speeds his way as fast as London traffic will let him go. Your flat is on the other side from him, so it takes a fair bit. He does not think to give Eleanor a heads-up or anything, either. She has never really been very fond of you.

Maybe that should have been a red flag.

Still, Louis does his best to try and keep Xhanti talking and distracted. He is not entirely sure what is going on, but if you are hiding in the closet in a state that sends the little boy to call for help, he can understand the urgency. Something seems to have triggered a panic attack or something. It has been a while since he has helped you through one, but he is fairly certain he remembers the gist of what to do.

By the time he parks outside the building, it sounds like Xhanti has wandered into his room to get some toys. At least this is a pretty good indication that he managed to reassure the little boy somehow. The last thing he needs is to be freaking out. That will make it a lot harder to take care of you.

When he knocks, he has a moment of panic about whether the toddler can reach to unlock the door, before he remembers you giving him a spare key for emergencies. Is it possible that you predicted this? You mentioned there being changes when you got back, but he had assumed you meant Xhanti. Just what the hell happened in South Africa?

He need not have worried. Xhanti unlocks the door just fine by making a ladder out of a chair. Louis scoops the little boy up into his arms as he steps inside. The door he relocks behind him.

“Where’s Mummy?” he asks, trying and failing to disguise the concern he feels.

Xhanti squirms, so Louis sets him down. As soon as his feet touch, the toddler grabs for the singer’s hand and leads the way back to your bedroom.

He lets go as soon as they step inside, so Louis can head straight for the closet.

It breaks his heart to see you like this, curled up as small as you can and rocking a little. Your eyes are open, but vacant, your expression blank. The way your eyes flicker about erratically, it is almost like you are entranced by a movie playing only in your mind.

Yes, this is definitely a panic attack. However, this is much more severe than any others he can remember you having.

“[Name]?” he calls softly, voice as gentle as he can make it.

Still you flinch, and it wrenches something in him.

Clearing his throat, he tries again, “[Nickname], it’s just me. It’s Tommo.”

It takes a minute to realize you have started shaking like a leaf. Fuck, he cannot remember what used to help anymore. This is not the same as when the two of you were kids. Back then, all he had to do is hold you and sing.

Wait a minute.

Music.

Glancing behind him at the scared little boy, something in his chest tightens. He hates that this is happening to the two of you, that you both endured whatever trauma caused this. Being helpless about it infuriates him, so he has to put effort into keeping that impotent rage out of his voice.

“Bring me her phone, please,” he says, offering an encouraging grin.

Xhanti’s shoulders relax, before he goes to grab something from by your pillows. He hurries over with it, little legs churning to get him there even faster.

It is so cute Louis feels like his heart might explode. Why is he acting like this? He decides to ignore whatever is causing him to be so sentimental.

Once your phone is in his hand – your password is easy for him to guess – he goes to your Spotify playlist and quickly scrolls down it. There’s one that has a flower emoji next to it. That is the one he plays. It is not a huge surprise when he recognizes music from Swan Lake, considering it is one of your favorite ballets to perform in.

He sets your phone next to you. While it plays, he slowly crawls into the closet with you. When you don’t flinch or jerk away, he presses against you gently and begins talking about random memories as he thinks of them. Once he is pressed close, his arms hesitantly snake around you. He is prepared to remove them at the first sign that his touch is bothering you, but it never comes.

With a light squeeze, he pulls you into his lap where it is easier to hold you tight against him.

Louis feels pretty damn smug when his newest song plays. It just makes him feel all warm and bubbly to know his singing still helps like it used to.

He gives into the temptation and sings along with his song.

Very slowly, you begin to relax, earning a relieved smile that he hides by pressing his face into your hair.

It feels like you are disconnected from your body and reality, so the music is muffled at first. Eventually it registers as something familiar that makes you feel good things. It is at about that same time that you hear his voice and begin to feel the arms holding you.

Maybe you should feel even more embarrassed, but mostly you feel alarmed. Louis was not supposed to be coming round today, which means Xhanti must have called him. If that is the case there is no telling how long you have been dissociating.

Trying to regain coherent consciousness feels a little like you are trying to claw yourself out of a pit filled with molasses, or tar. Something thick, sticky, and unpleasant.

His singing is the final thing that helps you break free. Obviously, if he is here with you right now, you and Xhanti must be safe.

With a shuddery breath, you feel like you have been slammed back into your body. Your legs are tight from racing home and not stretching. You’ll have to take Xhanti to the studio later to stretch out.

“[Name]? You with me, love?” His voice is soft, gentle even.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak yet. Your throat hurts like you have been screaming, but you are fairly certain that is not the case. Doing so in the past certainly did you no favors, if it did not outright make it worse.

Besides, you would probably be dealing with the police right now if that was the case. You are sure a noise complaint would have been called in.

“Y-Yeah…” You clear your throat. “Sorry.”

At your voice, a tiny voice calls out, “Mummy?”

Louis does not miss the way you flinch, but only gives you a tiny squeeze.

“Yeah, baby?” You do not pull away from Louis, reluctant to leave the security of his arms.

Xhanti peeks into the closet. When he sees you looking at him, he smiles so big all his tiny teeth are visible. If he thinks there is something strange about Louis holding you in the closet, he shows no indication.

The fact this is his normal stabs you with guilt.

“Love you, Mummy!” with that smile still there, he turns and trots off to go find some toys to play with.

Louis rubs gently on your arm. There is no rush to move, although a part of him recognizes that Eleanor would not be pleased to see him holding you like this. However, most of him does not give a shit about what she might say. If you need him and he is available, he will do his damn best to be here for you.

He decides not to look too closely at his putting you above his girlfriend.

“You okay, then?” It is a stupid question he regrets immediately. “What happened?”

Maybe bombarding you with questions is not helpful right now, but he cannot help it. Now that the crisis seems to be over, he has too many and needs them answered.

“I’ll be fine, yeah,” you mumble.

Now that shock has worn off, the humiliation is taking over. Maybe programming that number to call him was a mistake.

“That didn’t answer the question, you know,” he mutters.

A soft sigh escapes you, but you still are not ready to talk about your abusive ex.

“Sorry, Tommo.” You finally pull away to crawl out of the closet.

Louis lets you go rather reluctantly, trying to keep from being impatient about you not answering his question. He follows you out to the kitchen, where he has to hide a smile as you go to put the kettle on. He is not the only one who finds tea soothing. The best part is you take it the same way he does so no adjustments have to be made.

It is surprisingly nice to see you doing domestic things like this. Weird.

When he spots how stiff you are moving, he frowns all over again. “Are you hurt?”

You place the kettle on the stove before looking at him rather confused. “No? Why?”

“You’re walking weird,” he says, pulling his gaze from your legs.

Is it weird that he likes the way you look in the leggings and t-shirt you are wearing? The material hugs you in a very flattering way. Yeah, it is definitely weird to be looking at his best mate like this. Face feeling hot, he glances around.

“I’m just stiff from not stretching before I ran home.” You cringe as soon as you say it, knowing there is no way Louis will not catch it.

“Ran home? [Name], what’s going on?” He looks torn between worry and frustration.

Glancing at the door to Xhanti’s room – you can hear him playing something that sounds like fighter planes with dinosaurs piloting them – you nod your head at the deck. Louis follows behind you, slightly relieved for more than one reason. You are going to explain what happened, _and_ he can have a cigarette. Hopefully that will help him calm down so he is not chomping at the bit quite so much.

Once again, you bum one off him and wait for him to light his first. Instead of handing the lighter to you, though, he just cups his hand around it and ignites it for you, so all you have to do is lean over closer to him. _Try to focus less on that, [Name]. He is_ never _going to feel that way about you._ Ever. _So get used to it already._

After a couple of drags, you see Louis fidget out of the corner of your eye. To avoid him demanding answers – and probably raising his voice – you rub at your face with a heavy sigh.

“I thought I saw his father,” you admit quietly, afraid to see Louis’s reaction.

Yet also unable to stop yourself from peeking up through your eyelashes.

In better circumstances, the range of emotions that crosses Louis’s face in just a few seconds might be comical. A growing knot forms somewhere between your stomach and heart, pulling on your diaphragm which makes it harder to breathe. You have to focus hard to keep yourself in the present as the urge to dissociate prickles at your nerves; the muscles between your shoulders are pinching so hard it aches into your shoulders and up your neck. Anymore tension will send you into shutting down—

_No. Stay here._

You start to study Louis’s face in a way you haven’t had the luxury of time to do. For a moment, you even start to count the eyelashes on his right eye. So, when he speaks up, you have to blink a little.

“Did he hurt you?” Louis’s voice is too calm, and you can see the muscle tightening in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

You pull your gaze up to the sky, watching the streams of light as the sun breaks through the clouds. The last thing you need is to look down and confirm that his hands are clenched into fists. You have never been afraid of Louis, and now is not the time you want to test that.

“Yes,” is barely loud enough to be a whisper

Louis abruptly turns and stalks away to the other end of the balcony, which is only a few steps away. The explosive movement makes you shut your eyes, but you only turn your face away from him before opening them again. They are burning, yet you really do not understand why. You _know_ he is not really angry with _you_ , that his stepping away like that is to prevent himself from lashing out at the nearest person – you in this case.

It still reminds you—

You shake the thought away physically. It barely stops the flashback from catching you like it had once you got Xhanti behind you in the closet.

When you finally glance at him, the singer is still standing with his back to you. Now his hands rest on the railing, pushing his shoulders up even as his head drops.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, but you cannot pick up anything from his tone.

Before you can even try to answer that, he straightens back up, waving his hand at you like he can erase what he just said from the air. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shakes his head.

“Nevermind, forget I said that. It was stupid of me, really.”

You are not sure what to say, or really even know if you _can_ say anything. The lump in your throat makes it hard to swallow. If you start crying now, you are not going to be able to stop for a while. You have to hold off until Xhanti has gone to bed. Then you can afford to have an emotional breakdown in the shower.

When Louis finally opens his eyes to look at you, it feels like something twists around his heart. You are visibly shaking, hands unsteady as you bring the cigarette to your lips. It looks like you might be about to cry, too. He is such an asshole for pushing you to talk about this. Especially after you had a breakdown over it.

“[Nickname],” he sighs, but pushes away from the railing to move back over to where you are standing.

You barely have time to register him coming closer before he has pulled you into his arms and is hugging you tight against him. Your heart stutters like a hummingbird that has just smashed into a glass window at full speed. It is almost like a stranger controls them as your arms lift to slip around him and cling in return. He has his face buried in our neck, leaving you to stare over his shoulder at the sky.

“I wish I’d known,” Louis says, grip tightening as he holds you against him almost possessively. “I’d have done… something.”

You shake your head, giving into the urge to press even closer to him. “No, you couldn’t have done anything. He’s… not a good person, Lou. He’d have killed you for interfering.”

He sighs in frustration, but does not try to argue.

“He doesn’t know where you are, then?” He cannot help worrying, and knows this is going to bother him every time he is gone now.

You wearily shake your head. “No, as far as I know. It’s why I got so… startled today. I cannot know for sure he is even still in South Africa.”

With all their illegal business connections, it will be easy to slip out of the country without any proper documentation. He could be in England or Morocco, for all you know. It is not like they will confirm his presence on flights. There is no way to track him without implanting a tracer in him somewhere.

Louis relaxes around your answer. At least you are not in imminent danger or anything. That means he does not have to be on edge about your safety as much.

He gently rubs on your back, hand sliding up between your shoulders and then tracing shapes on the way back down.

A little shiver races through you that goes straight between your legs.

You hear the high whistling of the kettle just as it starts. You dump the cigarette butt in the ashtray on your way inside. At least your legs are not quite as tight as they were earlier. Moving around has warmed them up enough to lose that stiffness, so at least there is that.

It is not until the tea is steeping that Louis asks, “Should I spend the night?”

You look at him, startled. While the thought has crossed your mind, you did not think it an option. Your heart is pounding for no reason.

As much as you want him to – you wish he always stayed with you – reality is there to remind you about Eleanor. Even though you really wish he would, not going home to her will just strain their relationship even more. Despite your fantasies, you do not really want to be the reason they break up.

“No, it’s fine.” You suck in your lower lip before you can stop yourself. It’s been the expression you make when you are lying or hiding something ever since you were a kid.

Sometimes, Louis lets you get away with it. It is cute to watch you think you managed to trick him. However, this is not one of those times. Not after what happened to make him rush over here.

Perhaps it should say something that he still has not thought about Eleanor.

“Love, do you _want_ me to stay?” he asks, voice almost gentle.

As obvious as that should be, you still feel too guilty to accept. Louis sees your wistfulness before guilt makes you hide it. He has a feeling now that you are turning down his offer because you think it will inconvenience him.

It really irritates him that you think he cares so little for you.

You hesitate, because of course you want him to stay. The last thing you want is for him to think you do not want him around. In reality, you probably want him around a little too much. Alright, probably more than a little too much.

Suddenly, you are too tired to argue. As you finish up the tea now that it has steeped long enough, a heavy sigh escapes you.

“Of course I _want_ you to stay, Louis,” you say quietly, grateful to have your hands busy with something so you can avoid looking at him. “I always want you to stay.”

Maybe you should not have mentioned that. You chance a glance at your childhood best friend, only to find him smiling cheekily. Are his cheeks pink…? You do not get to focus on the flush for long because he takes his tea out of your hands with an amused chuckle. Your face feels hot, so you distract yourself again by getting your own cup.

“Then I’ll stay,” he announces with a little shrug.

He does not really want to go home anyway.

You worry at your lip a little. “What about Eleanor?”

Maybe someday you will not have to remind yourself that he is taken. Maybe someday you will actually get over him.

But not today.

Louis does not do a very good job of hiding the way his shoulders slump. “Oh. I’ll just let her know something’s come up.”

You raise an eyebrow at the obvious lie he is planning to tell, but he carefully ignores the look on your face. Instead, he pulls out his phone and rapidly taps out some excuse or other for his not coming home tonight. He shoves the phone back into his pocket to avoid seeing any response.

With a sip of your tea, you sigh softly. Any remaining tension eases right out of you. Tea really is just so soothing, spreading its warmth through your whole body. Although you might tease him about his Yorkshire Tea, you understand his attachment.

Louis hides a smile at your obvious enjoyment, taking a sip of his own. His eyes roll up a little in happiness. You always make it just right.

When the two of you make eye contact, you both start to giggle for no reason. It has been a while since you got to feel this slap-happy, and even longer since you got into a giggle fit with Louis.

Hearing the noise from the kitchen, Xhanti trots out of his room. He has no idea what is so funny, but he lets out a few exaggerated laughs of his own. It makes you and Louis laugh even harder, earning a positively radiant smile from the little boy. He races over to ram into your leg, face pressing into your hip. You grunt softly, but lean over to give him a hug.

“What should we do the rest of the day?” you ask the toddler.

He frowns in thought. He is not sure what he wants to do. When his eyes land on Louis, he turns back to you.

“Lou stay?” He pouts hopefully.

You blink a little, because that pouty face is really potent and you did not expect it.

“Uncle Tommo is staying,” Louis announces with a grin.

Xhanti cheers, before racing over to slam into the older man for a hug. A delighted laugh bursts out of the singer, and he scoops the little boy up into his arms to give him a squeeze.

“What should we do today?” Louis asks, repeating your question.

Xhanti taps his nose in thought, a habit Louis recognizes from you; he does not even try to hide his amusement. You roll your eyes at him.

“Park?” Xhanti always wants to go to the park.

The two of you glance out the window. Rain is just starting to splatter against the glass. Both of you sigh and look at Xhanti, your eyes apologetic and Louis’s regretful. Running around would have burnt off some of the excess energy left behind from worrying about you.

“Sorry, love,” you say with a sad smile. “It’s just starting to rain.”

At the tiny pout, Louis offers, “If it stops, we can go for a walk?”

Xhanti tilts his head, clearly thinking about it. Obviously a walk is not as good as going to the park, but it is still fun. He will get to be with his two favorite people. Not to mention the best part!

“Puddles?” His hands curl into fists as he lifts them to cheer.

It is really cute. Louis’s gaze glances up to you for confirmation. Or, maybe, more like permission.

You grin. “He _did_ just get new rainboots. Sounds like a good time to use them.”

Both of them cheering sets off the giggles in you again. Life feels lighter and brighter when you see the two of them together. It is actually rather pathetic, but after earlier today, you just soak it up like a sponge instead of berating yourself out of enjoying it. _This is not hurting anyone_ , you reason, refusing to think about Eleanor. Everything is completely platonic between you, Louis has always been a saint about never crossing the line.

He is just being a good mate, is all. Maybe you should repeat that to yourself as a new mantra, too. It might help you believe it.

Louis does not miss the way your happiness fades with your laughter. It makes him frown slightly, but he resists the urge to ask when you do not look so much upset as you do resigned. Perhaps you only thought of earlier and the events surrounding that. He is pretty sure he read somewhere about flashbacks after trauma…

He decides not to look into it too much. It will just make him fret even more, and he remembers how irritable it made you when he fussed over you in the past.

For the next couple of hours, the three of you spend time together. To you, it feels like playing house again only with your son instead of Louis’s sisters. The nostalgia threatens to ruin your mood, but you manage to hold it off. Meanwhile, Louis thinks he is more of an outsider getting to watch you and Xhanti be a family. He has to smother the sudden longing he has to be part of it, because he knows better. You have never looked at him that way, and it is obvious you never will.

To distract him from the dull ache in his chest, he throws himself into whatever game or activity Xhanti wants to do. It is not too hard to get caught up, and Louis finds he keeps having to catch himself from calling the little guy Freddie on accident. Fortunately, he does not seem to notice, and if you do, you keep it to yourself.

Still, the domestic bliss is nice for all of you. There is a bit of a tantrum that Louis helps you diffuse when Xhanti realizes that the dish you promised to make is no longer possible. The two of you never made it to the market to get the groceries, so there are no ingredients. The guilt you feel for your own issues messing up and breaking a promise to Xhanti has you almost in tears, too, by the time Louis manages to distract him with offering his choice in takeaway.

You are automatically pulling up the menu for the local Indian place that offers delivery by the time Xhanti enthusiastically cries out for curry. It startles a laugh out of Louis, which eases the tightness in your throat from all the guilt.

It is hours later when the rain stops, after Xhanti has finally fallen asleep, when the two of you slip out onto the little balcony. Louis has a cup of tea, but you chose hot cocoa with an abundance of marshmallows so that melted down they will create a gooey seal the hot liquid has to push through. It is childishly more comforting than tea.

Or maybe you are just craving sweets, and this is one of the few things you can allow an indulgence in with your diet. At least you burned extra calories today racing home with a toddler in your arms.

There are plenty of puddles for him to splash in tomorrow, which you know will make Xhanti so happy. Especially since you know he will be upset when he wakes up to find that Louis is already gone. It is a good thing you have chocolate to drink so you do not mention this out loud. Guilting Louis into staying is probably the shittiest thing you can do. You have to bite your lip to keep from apologizing for even thinking of it in the first place.

At some point, Louis sets his cup on the floor out of the way so he will not accidentally kick it over, although it is already empty. He pulls the pack of cigarettes out and offers you one. A part of him feels guilty, since without access to his, you would not be smoking. He just cannot decide if this makes him a shit friend or not.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the lighter from him, too.

Well, at least making you happy – even if it is unhealthy – makes him feel a little better.

He probably should quit. Lord knows Eleanor has begged him to. It has been getting less insistent lately, although for some reason this feels ominous. She does not seem to be trying to nag less so much as she does not seem to care about it anymore. While a part of him feels victorious for waiting her out, most of him wonders if this is a bad sign.

Louis steadfastly ignores the way he is also avoiding her and does not seem to care about her feelings or opinions; at least, not above yours.

“I think about breaking up with her a lot.” It takes him a minute to realize he spoke aloud, and he cringes.

But he does not take it back.

For a moment, you almost choke on the sudden amount that comes when you inhale sharply in surprise. Trying not to cough until your eyes water, you blink at him in obvious shock.

Why?” Your voice is hoarse now.

Louis looks a little surprised by the coughing fit you are obviously trying to smother. If under different circumstances, he might actually be a little impressed. Whenever he tries to avoid one, he usually ends up failing spectacularly. Last time, he is fairly certain he got a little spit everywhere. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

The actual question you ask makes him shift uncomfortably. He is not sure if there is a way to explain this without making himself seem like a heartless asshole. This should not be as hard as it is, right?

“Things still aren’t right,” he finally settles on, voice low.

He focuses on the cigarette in his fingers to avoid looking at you. He is not sure why he is avoiding your eyes. Maybe he is just afraid to see judgment there, even if you have never given him grief for his choices so far. Not even when he knocked up Briana, although he gave himself enough shit over that, and the media made it worse.

Frowning a little, you reach out to rub on his shoulder. “That really sucks, Lou. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this.”

_All of this._ It goes unspoken, but you still struggle to wrap your brain around all the shit he has had to deal with in the last couple years. The deaths of his mum and sister, in particular.

Shit, Louis really does not want to think of all the bad shit lately. He has been looking forward to the tour. It will be the thing that goes right for him.

Jaw tight as he grits his teeth in a futile attempt to keep the emotional turmoil at bay, he clears his throat loudly.

“Yeah…” Why did he bring this up? He is an idiot.

You are not sure what to do. You _want_ to pull him into your arms so you can hold him protectively, like you will stop bad things from happening with your embrace. You _want_ to smother him in all the affection until he no longer looks so sad. You _want_ to kiss him—

_Damn, [Name]. What the fuck?_

The need to comfort him is too strong to resist. You settle for pressing against his side so you can wrap your arms around him. He practically melts against you, curling forward enough he can hide his face in your hair momentarily.

Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbird on meth. Tightness in your chest and throat makes you swallow a whine. It is so stupid to be this affected by his touch. You would give a lot to have him hold you like this all the time.

A gentle squeeze precedes you letting go, although you are very reluctant. Louis hangs on a bit longer, not caring how obvious he is being. The feel of you, your natural scent, even your voice, are just so comforting. It is like his soul feels at home.

“We should probably go to bed,” you announce, before wincing. “Sorry. You do not have to, but I’ve got to get up with the little guy bright and early. I need sleep.”

Louis sighs miserably, but lets go of you. “Sleep sounds good to me.”

Putting your cigarette butts in the ashtray, he follows you back inside. You are not sure if he will fit in some of your clothes, but you know you fit in his. Still, you fish out some pajama pants and a loose t-shirt. Much better.

Having company means not being comfortable just wandering around naked all the time. You are not embarrassed of your body, but you still are not interested in flashing the goods to everyone.

By the time you crawl into bed and curl up, Louis is wiggling out of his trousers and shirt. Your mouth goes dry, having not expected him to strip down like that. You have to busy yourself by making sure the blankets are even, pillows fluffed in order to keep from drooling.

All the progress goes out the window when Louis slips under the covers and immediately reaches out to pull you against him, tucked into his body so he can be the big spoon and still cling to you for comfort. He will never admit it to anyone else, but he has to at least admit to himself that he wishes this is how he ends all of his days. Coming home to you and Xhanti would be so much better than what he has now. He cannot help the way he gives you a squeeze, almost like this will somehow convey his feelings for him. If he did not have such a mess for a life right now, and he could somehow guarantee you feel the same, Louis is honest with himself about how quickly he would end things with Eleanor.

Unfortunately, he has no reassurance that you return even a fraction of his feelings. You never really have, at least not that he can remember.

Either way, it no longer matters. That ship sailed a long time ago. He does not want to inflict all the negatives – and there are a lot – of being with him on you.

“G’night, [Nickname],” he mumbles, shifting a little so he can hide his face in your hair.

You smile sleepily, hand sliding so it can pat on his arm. “Sweet dreams, Tommo.”

Louis smiles, closing his eyes with a content sigh. Despite worrying that he is too anxious to sleep, he drifts off fairly quickly. It is a restful sleep, probably one of the first he has had in a long time. So, when a little hand pat-pats on his shoulder merely hours later, he is not as grumpy as he might usually be if someone wakes him up.

Xhanti stands there, his stuffed giraffe hugged to his chest.

The singer does not even hesitate, reaching out to tug the little boy up over him into the bed between the two of you. He helps pull the blankets up, sliding a pillow over for Xhanti to use. He drifts off to sleep again almost as fast as the toddler.

At some point, Xhanti wiggles around until he his snuggled up against Louis’s chest, so when the older wakes up with the intention to slip out, he realizes that is not an option anymore. He refuses to jostle or risk waking the boy early, so he just shifts a bit to get comfortable for returning to dreamland. 


End file.
